classic scenarios
by clairebare
Summary: someone left the ideas out in the rain. a series of new takes on favorite fan fiction themes.
1. Chapter 1

3 am. The doorbell rings.

She looks through the keyhole.

Him. Just as disheveled. Just as beautiful as always.

It's been nine months since he'd come and she'd just given birth last Tuesday.

And she knew she would let him in and she knew what would happen.

"Just a minute," she yells through the door.

She runs to the nursery and makes sure all is safe and secure there.

Five-day old Polly is asleep in her bassinet.

Nine-month old Lily is curled up in her crib.

Eighteen-month old Michael is sprawled in his crib.

Twenty-seven-month old Olive is snuggled in her bed with three year-old Violet.

She closes the door that was made to look like a bookcase for just this occasion.

She straightens her hair as she rushes back to the front door and opens it.

"Teresa."

She motions him in.


	2. Chapter 2

CLASSIC SCENARIO 2 – THE HOTEL ROOM

Lisbon couldn't believe it.

Of all the hotel rooms in this one-hotel town, hers had to be the one with the vermin problem.

Bats and rats had invaded her room. The only thing she liked worse than rats were bats. So there was no way she could stay in it.

Of course the hotel was hosting two large weddings in addition to a knitter's convention and the bloc of rooms booked by the FBI. So there were no other available rooms.

Her first thought was to bunk with Kim but when she casually mentioned it, Kim got rattled. Wonder what she's doing in there? Lisbon thought. Ugly mud paks and embarrassing cleanse diets where no one would want to share a bathroom?

She could ask Cho but he appeared to be very successfully chatting up a pretty woman sitting at the hotel bar. She didn't want to put a crimp in any speed Cho might need to bring this woman back to his room.

Abbott was out of the question. Because he just was.

Her only other choice was Jane. He immediately agreed saying this was perfect timing since it was about time they spent a weekend alone together and finally had sex.

Before she could point out that they were just colleagues, Jane brought her bags in, booked her an hour with a salon that did manis, pedis, and waxing, and arranged to meet her at the lingerie store in the hotel lobby as soon as she was polished and de-furred.

"Jane, we do not have that kind of relationship." Lisbon said.

"And I take all the blame for that and I assure you, that when this weekend is over we most certainly will have that kind of relationship. But look, we have to rush you into the waxing studio if you're going to make your appointment. Greta is waiting for you. Just tell her you're with Patrick, she'll know just what to do with you."

Patrick guides a reluctant and sputtering Teresa to the salon and leaves her with Greta. The woman opens Lisbon's robe and says, "Oh god yes, we can do much better. " She strips the robe off of Lisbon and shoves her into a waxing room.


	3. Chapter 3

PREGNANT TERESA

It was the third time that morning.

Jane just makes it to the mens room before tossing up what was left of his meager breakfast.

He drags himself out of the FBI bathroom and flops on his couch.

"You know, my morning sickness has been over for months now," Teresa remarks.

"This is our morning sickness, Teresa. We're pregnant; not you."

"We're pregnant. Really, Jane?" she says. When he made remarks like this it made her queasy.

She adds, "And are you going to get stretch marks too?"

He leaps to his feet. "Ooh, I love stretch marks. Let me see, let me see."

She shoos him away with her hand.

"I don't have them…yet."

He looks disappointed. There was nothing, it seemed, that Patrick found sexier than stretch marks except maybe that dark line down the center of a pregnant woman's belly.

Angela had had these changes early and Patrick couldn't wait for Teresa to catch up.

She'd be relieved to emerge from this with as close to her original body as possible.

But Patrick was eager for varicose veins, hemorrhoids and the mask of pregnancy. Also lower boobs were high on his list.

When her bellybutton went from an innie to an outtie, she hadn't been able to get him off her all night.

She preferred to regard her pregnancy as a means to an end. Go through nine months of gestation and you get a prize.

Instead she had a husband who talked like a mixture of a daytime talk show, a zen birthing class and an entire aisle of Hallmark cards.

"It's a joy to see my wife ripening," Patrick says from the couch.

"Did we just get beamed back to the Old Testament or something, Jane?"

Gag me with a sippy cup, she thinks.

When she'd gotten pregnant, she had no idea how obsessed he'd be.

He was so sentimental and drippy about the subject, even Van Pelt was skeeved out.

It turns out he'd been a carny OB/GYN since his mid-teens. A very respected position passed down from the mother's side of the family to the firstborn son.

He had his own speculums and everything.

Sometimes, she'd wake up and he'd be examining her.

She'd say good morning. And he'd say he didn't like the look of her cervix at all.

She looks over at Cho. If Van Pelt was skeeved, Cho was suicidal about Jane's pregnancy personality. He'd taken to listening to his iPod all day.

She watches as Jane pulls out a stack of baby catalogs. Most days he sits for hours looking at bumpers and cribs and wallpaper.

"I don't really want to be that person, Patrick," she says. "With the middle brow nursery. I don't want the country look or the romantic look or the animals in the forest look or the circus look. I want the "cheap crib with a table until we can throw the shit out" look.

He cocks his head as he evaluates how a swatch of crushed rose velvet looks next to a piece of ivory rickrack.

"That's all about competing with other parents, Jane."

He takes out his carpet samples and deals them out on the couch.

She thinks about how terrified she is about the birth. No matter how much she begs him, she knows he'll have lighting, make-up and a camera crew.

She has a deal with Cho.

If Jane starts filming, Cho will come in and arrest his ass.

"Teresa, I think you're starting to waddle." Jane sits up and lets out a long wolf whistle.


End file.
